


Your Little Inferno

by Gabbythedevil



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Fire Nation Won, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Ba Sing Se, Dead Aang (Avatar), Epistolary, F/M, Fire Nation (Avatar), Fire Nation Lore (Avatar), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Non-Graphic Violence, Order of the White Lotus, Parent/Child Incest, Rebellion, Resistance, Sexual Violence, Stockholm Syndrome, Underage Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:14:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25581175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabbythedevil/pseuds/Gabbythedevil
Summary: He's the man of her dreams... the only man worthy of a Fire Lord's hand... he's her father.“Our children will be dragons,”he hissed, “Our divine heritage will be safe. Untainted.  Princess Azula is fourteen years old, and ripe for marriage. I saw the hope in your eyes, gentlemen. To think that I would waste my ripe little fruit, a descendant of Fire Lord Sozin and Avatar Roku, a prodigal lightning-bender before she turned ten, to think I would waste her on one of you? That was pure hubris on your parts.”Aang is dead, but he guides the Gaang and the Order of the White Lotus from the spirit world. The Fire Nation better get ready for a resistance. And a rescue.
Relationships: Azula/Chan (Avatar), Azula/Ozai (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Mai/Ty Lee (Avatar), Toph Beifong/Sokka
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	Your Little Inferno

From the desk of His Imperial Majesty, The Phoenix King Ozai, Son of Azulon, Son of Sozin:

My daughter, 

I wanted you to hear the news of our triumph before anyone else. I have slaughtered the Avatar in Wulong Forest, and we are on our way to Ba Sing Se, the city you seized with your daring and cleverness, child. I will hang the last airbender’s body in front of the Earth palace for all to watch as it putrefies, before I finally, blessedly, set his wretched corpse alight.

I only wish you could be here to see it. But if I can’t have you here, my little inferno, at least the other members of our family can watch it. Oh, how I relish watching our traitor brothers look on as their last hope burns to a crisp. Perhaps I’ll even throw those Water Tribe insurgents onto the bonfire.

You know, on second thought, Azula, I’d like for you to be here. By my side. Fire Lord and Phoenix King. It would really do the Earth peasants good to quail before both their new rulers. I was originally going to have one of the commanders escort your wretched brother to Ba Sing Se for the show, as I thought you deserved a rest. And you do, but we can rest together at Ember Island together. Soon. 

And, my sweet little inferno, I cannot think of anyone who would complain overmuch if Zuko arrived here bearing some marks of your dissatisfaction. I can only assure you that Iroh, the Coward of the West, will bear similar marks. We are our brothers’ keepers, are we not, child?

I shall let you go now. Unfortunately, you’ll have to deal with Lo and Li again, because I really don’t have the time to find you other chaperons. And they’re certainly useful for teaching you the social niceties that a lady must possess. After all, daughter, you are a grown-up woman now. And they know just what clothes I like to see you in. 

Your father, Ozai

Azula let a little smile creep onto her lips as she read the letter. Her fingers crackled with the memory of lightning as she replayed the Agni Kai in her head. The Agni Kai. For as long as there had been firebenders, there had been Agni Kais. There would always be Agni Kais. Firebenders would duel and die and scream and smolder in great drama for all eternity, but to Fire Lord Azula, there would only be one Agni Kai that would matter.

“My Lord,” her chambermaid Yua said timidly, “Ladies Lo and Li are here to supervise your preparations.”

“Send the old hags in,” Azula said, still gazing at the letter. A faint blush rose to her cheeks. She had been around men since she was a child- guards, soldiers, commanders, advisors. No one worthy of a Fire Lord’s love. No one except her father.

“Princess Azula,” the old women said in unison, shuffling into her chamber and bowing in sync.

“Fire Lord Azula,” she snapped, giving them a once-over from her perch on her bed, “I’m not a princess any longer, ladies. Why are you here?”

“The king gave us lengthy instructions that we must carry out, Fire Lord Azula,” Li (or Lo) croaked out. 

Azula narrowed her golden eyes suspiciously.

“What lengthy instructions?,” she demanded, “Yua and the other maids are capable of packing a few outfits.”

The old women shared an inscrutable look before Lo (or Li) said,

“Your father has bid us to teach you the Fire Nation betrothal rites.”

Ozai’s letter went up in a burst of blue flames, dripping embers onto the bed sheet. Azula stood up with a wild look in her eyes, her fists clenched painfully.

“Do you mean he is going to betroth me when I get to Ba Sing Se?,” she asked breathlessly. Lo and Li started murmuring soothing words, but she shoved them aside and strode out onto her balcony. Panting, she was horrified to find tears dripping down her cheeks as if she were some kind of weak Water peasant. 

“I’m the Fire Lord,” she muttered to herself, clenching the railing, “I’m the Fire Lord. Father wouldn’t just marry me off like I’m some common noblewoman. He wouldn’t.”

Dearest Father,

I’m never going to send this letter, but just the thought of you being near me is a comfort. Oh, but how could you, Father? Those bitches, Lo and Li, have just spent the past two hours teaching me betrothal rites. When to kneel before the Fire Sage. When to let my betrothed place his ceremonial comb in my hair. Agni, Father, how could you do this to me? How can you be fine with the thought of selling me to some worthless man? How can you be fine with the thought of him touching me like you do? I want to scream. I want to wrap my hands around something and burn it until only ashes remain, but this is an anger that I will push down. I’ll be your dutiful daughter. I’ll be by your side, and I will gladly watch you burn the Avatar. I’ll leave burns all over Zuko, and perhaps I’ll give him a matching scar on his other eye. I’ll do anything you say. I always have.

Father, I ought to be glad. We’ve won, and the whole world is ours. But if you marry me off to some Lord, or some Commander like I’m just a spoil of war- will it be ours, or will it just be yours? I am yours, Father. Don’t be surprised if this man gets into an unfortunate accident on our wedding night. I don’t want anyone but you. How could you do this to me? I’ve entertained the thought of going into a rage when I see you, but like a good daughter, I know I will only drop to one knee and kiss the hem of your robe, even though I want to kiss your lips. Even though one day I’ll have to let another man kiss my lips. I’ve spilled my blood for you countless times. I’ve seen our comrades die in the battlefield, writhing under boulders or sliced open by ice blades. I’ve put my hands on people’s stomachs and burned through them until they tell me what I want to know. But this- a betrothal- this is the hardest thing you’ve asked me to do. Father, I’m your inferno, not another man’s blushing bride. 

Your loyal daughter, Azula

~

“Zuzu,” Azula said, staring down at him gleefully, “How are you? It’s been so long.”

“Why are you here, Zula?,” Zuko asked defiantly, lifting his head from his hands. He cried out as Azula’s boot caught him in the ribs.

“Zula?,” she smirked, “I am your Fire Lord, traitor, and you will address me as such.”

She kicked him again, delighting in his muffled whimper. They had several hours before the airship left for Ba Sing Se, and she was eager to take out her angst on her turncoat brother. 

“Are you just here to torture me?,” Zuko asked hoarsely, watching her warily as she sat primly on the wooden stool a guard had brought into the cell for her.

“Torture?,” she asked with a shrill laugh, “Don’t be absurd, Zuzu. ‘Torture’ carries such connotations of racks and screws and knives, don’t you think?”

She flicked back her coat sleeve and took his arm in her hand. His skin was sweaty and dirt-streaked, and she wrinkled her nose.

“I don’t cut,” she said conversationally, “Because it gets my clothes dirty, you see. There are some stains you just can’t get out of silk.”

Azula watched her brother’s face contort as she pressed vicious heat deep into his arm. She lifted her hand, watched him take a relieved breath, then dug her long, manicured fingernails into the burn. His scream reminded her of the day he got his scar.

That moment was when she truly fell in love with her father. He had held a ball of roiling flames and pressed it straight onto Zuko’s face. She watched every coil of Ozai’s muscles, every movement he made. Before he left the ring, he turned to her, gold eyes boring into gold, and gave his daughter a gentle smile. She was merely 12, a child by most people’s standards, but she knew, on a cellular level, that she would love her father with every breath she took. He had started coming to her when she was 11, or summoning her to him. Before that day, what they did at night was something to be endured. But seeing her father’s smile made her realize it was something to be enjoyed. He liked it better when she enjoyed herself. And she would make him happy. She would never be like Zuko.

“Zuzu,” she purred, grasping his other arm as he wept weakly, “Say ‘I bow before Fire Lord Azula.’”

His only response was a grimace as he sat up again.

“Say it, traitor, or I’ll give you another scar to wear on your face,” she snapped, her hand heating up, “It’ll match the one Father gave you. My father.”

“I bow before Fire Lord Azula,” Zuko choked out.

“He’s not your father,” Azula continued, letting her fire seep into his bones, “Knowing our whore mother, you were probably sired by some palace guard.”

Zuko’s eyes flew open angrily. 

“Ursa had the world before her, but she rejected it,” Azula said with mock-sadness, “Just like you, Zuzu. You really are her son. You have nothing of Father in you.”

“You’re a monster, Azula,” Zuko hissed.

“And you sound like Mommy,” Azula said, leaning close to him, “You’ll both die a traitor’s death, though. You and Ursa the whore. You and Iroh, Coward of the West. You and your Water Tribe lover. You bring death to everyone you care about, brother. Soon, Father and I will bring death to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Who's up for some GoT style incest and violence? Kidding. Nothing's going to be graphic, so don't worry. Also, this fic will be partially epistolary.  
> I'd like to thank all the little people, like Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko hehe. Enjoy!


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